by Emma Woods
Nate’s mother came bustling into the hallway.
“Nate!” she cried and opened her arms to give him a very stiff hug.
“Hi, Mom. This is Emily. Emily, this is my mother, Gail.” Nate stepped back from his mother’s arms and gestured to me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Emily,” Gail said. She held out a manicured hand and gave my fingers a single squeeze. “Let’s go out to the deck. Your father is grilling steaks. Would you like something to drink?”
Gail clacked off toward the back of the house, her beige palazzo pants swinging and her fitted beige top completing her monochromatic look. She was petite but wearing heels inside the house to compensate. I had the impression that shoes were a part of the outfit, and therefore a mandatory part of the appearance of the house’s occupants.
Once we were given sparkling water in glass bottles, we were instructed to follow Gail to the deck, where I was introduced to Bruce, Nate’s dad. Bruce was balding and loud, but a good deal warmer than his wife. We only had a few minutes of awkwardness before the sound of a car pulling up reached our ears.
“That must be Lucy,” Gail announced as she sprang to her feet.
“My sister,” Nate whispered as his mother disappeared into the house.
“So, Emily, what is it you do?” Bruce asked.
“At the moment, I’m a barista at the Birch Springs Beanery.” It felt small to admit it here in this big, fancy house. “My degree’s in biology, though.”
Bruce waved his grilling flipper at Nate. “Your generation is all about earning degrees they never use. Nate has a degree in marketing, but he hasn’t put it to much use.”
For some reason, Bruce’s words seemed to carry more weight than his friendly smile would admit. Beside me, Nate shifted uncomfortably.
“I’ve used my degree before. I was working for a conservation group out in Oregon before coming here.” I tried not to sound defensive.
“Well, that’s something, at least. I suppose there aren’t too many jobs for a biology major here in Birch Springs,” Bruce chuckled brassily.
The French doors opened, and Gail returned with a younger version of herself, Nate’s sister Lucy. I shook Lucy’s hand before her father asked about the latest case she was working on. Nate had explained earlier that his sister was the youngest lawyer to make partner in the history of her firm. So, I wasn’t surprised when Lucy launched into a complicated legal explanation, which I didn’t even pretend to follow. By the time she finished, we were sitting around the shaded patio table with our plates full.
I had to admit that the food looked great. Gail had confessed to buying everything already made at a gourmet shop in Melbourne. Since I couldn’t picture her actually risking her manicure or doing anything practical, that made a lot of sense, and I dug in eagerly.
As the meal progressed, I found myself watching Nate more and more. His family was never rude to me, but I was certainly an afterthought. They’d dismissed me almost as soon as they’d met me, which suited me fine. I wouldn’t have had any idea how to contribute to their lengthy discussion of whether or not Aunt Martha had had a tummy tuck. What was intriguing was the way they kept trying to push Nate back into the role of high school football star.
“How’s work going?” Lucy asked him at one point. “Dad said you were going to be in charge of a project.” The way she said it made me think of an adult bending over, hands on knees, talking down to a child.
“He’s leading one now,” Bruce answered before Nate could open his mouth. “He’s really leading the way. The guys on his team weren’t too happy when I picked him to take lead, but they’re coming around. I guess it pays to be the boss’s son after all.”
Nate smiled uncomfortably, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Don’t you think it’s time that we replaced your car, Nate?” Gail changed the subject brightly. “That Jeep of yours is awful. We could get you something new. Bruce, you could work out a deal with Carl over at the dealership, couldn’t you?”
“Mom, I don’t want a new car. I like the one I have. Besides, I’m an adult now and if I want a new car, I’ll buy one myself.” I could tell Nate was trying not to sound petulant.
Gail waved his words away with a swish of her hand. “We’re glad to do it. You’re working hard, and your father and I appreciate it, don’t we, Bruce?”
“You bet,” Bruce agreed with too much gusto. “We got Lucy her Audi when she made partner. It’s what parents do for their kids.”
I looked down at my plate and bit my lip to keep from smiling. If Bruce knew that I drove a beat-up old minivan, he’d probably keel over. Or threaten me with a new car.
“Did you get your tickets for the gala?” Lucy steered the conversation in a new direction.
Nate’s eyes checked to make sure I was okay with this topic before he said, “I did.”
“Are you taking Emily?” Gail pried. Then she laughed carelessly. “If you haven’t asked her yet, I might have just put my foot in my mouth.”
“Oh, you have to come,” Lucy cooed and patted at my arm with her long fingernails. “It’s always so much fun. I’ve been shopping for my dress for a month. I think I finally found something in Denver that will work. What do you think about flying down for the weekend sometime so we could buy it, Mom?”
The two women discussed their plans and effectively shut the rest of us out. I watched Nate, who was staring down at his food with determination. My heart squeezed for him. I would have bet everything I had that before I’d yelled at him all those weeks ago, Nate would have found this sort of conversation normal. He might even have jumped in and swam around. But now he saw it as shallow and empty and, from the look on his face, he was uncomfortable with that realization.
Bruce vacillated between praising his son for his work at the firm and chastising him for not branching out on his own. Every compliment was laced with a hint that Nate was riding his father’s coattails.
“Nate here really impressed the board at our last meeting. That’ll come in handy when you take over after I retire. Heh, heh, at least I don’t have to worry about handing my company over to someone else, since you seem intent on sticking around!”
Gail moved on to discussing the redecorating plans of everyone she knew. Lucy regaled the table with stories of her high school friends who had botched plastic surgeries, unfortunate children, or failed marriages.
When we were finally able to leave, we got into the car silently. Nate put on his reflective sunglasses, clenched his jaw, and drove away as though he was eager to put as much space as possible between himself and his family. We weren’t more than a mile down the road, though, when he suddenly signaled and turned off onto a dirt road.
I had a feeling that we were headed somewhere he knew well. And, sure enough, Nate drove expertly up the winding hills until he pulled to a stop at a rocky outcropping. He got out of the car and slammed the door, then came around to my side and held my door open for me. I climbed down, and Nate took my hand in his.
We walked to a large, flat rock that overlooked Birch Springs and the surrounding country. Nate sat with his back against a rock and pulled me down to sit with him. I settled between his legs and leaned back against his chest. I laid my head back so that my forehead rested against his cheek and threaded my fingers through his.
We sat like that for a long time. No words were necessary. I don’t know if Nate could have expressed what he was feeling in that moment. It was just too big. Before long, it grew hot out there and we couldn’t stay any longer.
Wordlessly, we got back into the Jeep and rode back to town. But now, Nate held my hand as we drove, rubbing his thumb over mine. The stings he’d gathered during lunch had been plucked out while we sat on the rock. I was glad to have been there for him, even though I hadn’t said anything.
When he pulled up at Bumblebee House, I turned to him and waited.
Finally, he put his head back on the head rest and looked over at me. “Thanks for coming with me today.
I didn’t realize how much I would need you.”
I smiled gently and reached out my hand to run the backs of my fingers over his cheek. He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips.
“Of course.” Then I climbed down from the Jeep and headed into the house.
14
It felt like Nate and I had reached a new level in our relationship. We’d walked a little deeper into the pool together, hand in hand. It was both exciting and scary, to be honest. But as the next week slipped by, we both relished this new place. Our arrival had been hard-won.
Unfortunately, Nate was spending more and more time at the Beanery when he should have been at work. His midmorning coffee breaks were drawing out to a half-hour, then forty-five minutes, then an hour. I was at a loss as to what I should do. I’d had no trouble confronting him about my perceptions of his deficits before we were dating. Now that I had a better understanding of his family’s situation, I was reluctant to say anything.
I mean, I’d met his father. I knew now that working with Bruce had to be difficult for Nate. I totally got it. But I found myself biting my tongue and forcing myself to find some distraction rather than obsessing over how long he sat in the café, sipping his coffee and playing on his phone.
I was also afraid, all of a sudden, of having another confrontation. We were in such a nice place. The rosy glow of sitting on the rock together was filling all of our interactions with a lovely sweetness. I feared that bringing up my concerns would shatter the glow.
So I didn’t say anything. I told myself firmly that it was Nate’s business, not mine.
Nate liked surprising me with fun activities for our dates. He put a lot of thought into finding things we could do together that we would both enjoy. For the most part, I really enjoyed this. It was so sweet that he wanted to share his favorite local haunts, and that he paid attention to what I might like.
When he loaded me into his Jeep and started the drive to Melbourne on my next day off, I sat back and looked forward to the day ahead. I was sporting a pair of cutoff khakis and a “Pure Michigan” t-shirt, as well as my Idaho trucker’s hat. It wasn’t a glamorous outfit, but Nate never commented on what I wore. After meeting his mother, who was sure to have drilled him in the importance of appearance all his life, I appreciated this even more.
He turned into the parking lot for a mall and my curiosity was piqued. Was there an old merry-go-round here that he’d ridden as a kid? Maybe he’d found a store that specialized in Wyoming paraphernalia.
I took his hand, and we walked together toward an entrance for one of the department stores. Nate was busy telling me a long story about when he’d come to Melbourne in high school to play football, and the whole team had gotten food poisoning at a local diner.
My brain was whirling, trying to find clues as to why we were here. Surely it wasn’t to eat at that diner. That would be one Nate Weisert landmark I would be all too happy to avoid.
Nate led me inside and around to the women’s section. Then he turned to me with an anticipatory grin. “Today, we’re going shopping!”
I gave the racks a raised eyebrow and said, “Are you taking up cross-dressing?”
He laughed merrily. “No, silly. We’re shopping for you!”
I paused and let that sink in. Okay. Shopping. “For the gala?”
“We can.”
So, buying a gala dress was not the goal. The rosy glow was definitely retreating hastily. I tried to keep my annoyance to a manageable level.
“What is it exactly that you think I need to buy?” I crossed my arms and took a steadying breath.
“Don’t get mad,” Nate wheedled. “It’s not that I don’t think you look good, because you definitely do. But you have, like, one dress and one pair of jeans and two pairs of shoes. If we’re going to be going out, you’ll probably want to have something else to wear, right?”
I blew out my breath and clenched my toes to keep my anger from taking over. “That might be true, but I don’t want more clothes. If I need something, Rosemarie lets me borrow it.”
“Come on, all women love shopping.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a teasing squeeze.
I pulled it out of his grip. Nate clearly didn’t understand how close I was to blowing my top. How could we have been dating this long, and he didn’t get this about me? Or did he hope I would somehow be different, more like the kind of girls he usually dated? The thought made my stomach clench.
“I don’t love shopping. I don’t want to have a huge wardrobe. I like being able to fit everything I own in my van. I like being able to pack up and leave town in under an hour. If I wanted more clothes, Nate, I would buy them for myself.” My voice was low and firm and quivering with frustration.
His face clouded over. He glanced around to make sure the salesladies were out of earshot. “I thought that maybe, since things were going well with us, that you might be thinking about staying in Birch Springs. Are you seriously telling me that you still need to be able to leave at a moment’s notice?”
I squirmed. That was a question I’d been avoiding. “I don’t know.”
I chanced a glance at him and saw that I’d hurt his feelings. It made me mad. Why did Nate get to be the victim here?
“Why do you want me to have more clothes? Am I embarrassing you or something?” I shot back, taking the offensive.
“I already told you that I think you look good. I thought this would be fun. I guess I was wrong.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I figured that things were going well for us and that you might be changing your mind about leaving so soon. I mean, you ripped a hole in your jeans when we were at the ranch last week. I thought you might need a new pair.”
It was a fair point. I was now down to one pair of jeans, and I’d had them since college. It would be nice to have a few outfits that were just right for going out with Nate. But my pride was not going to let me surrender so easily.
But then he added, “Besides, if you’re going to see my family again, you’re going to need a new dress. Since we’re here, let’s just buy one.”
His words were a punch right into that already-bruised part of my heart. He was embarrassed by how I dressed. Had his mother said something to him? Had she pointed out how obviously poorly matched we were? I thought back to the girls at the Talent Show who wore cute summer dresses that were fashionable and flattering. They’d been perfectly made up and walked confidently in high-heeled sandals.
I was never going to be one of those girls. Usually that thought didn’t bother me one iota. Now, though, I felt small and insufficient, and it made me even angrier than I already was.
He’d threaded his way through the racks and begun to flip through the clothes. He turned and held one up as if it was a peace offering. “What do you think of this one?”
The dress was gorgeous. The blue tones would complement my pale skin and black hair perfectly. Part of me itched to try it on and watch Nate’s reaction when I floated out of the dressing room in it.
But most of me felt humiliated and angry, and I just wanted to get away. Without answering, I turned and walked down the aisle and into the mall. I gulped deep breaths until I found a women’s restroom and flung myself inside. I dove into the first open stall and managed to lock the door before I burst into tears.
Once the wave of emotion receded, I took stock of myself. I was leaning against the door in a public bathroom stall, crying because my boyfriend had taken me shopping.
“Oh, Emily, get it together,” I whispered raggedly. “You are officially a mess.”
Shame was quickly filling the spaces where fear and embarrassment had been only moments before. I was making a stupendous fool of myself. Why was this so overwhelming?
“Emily?” Nate’s voice called into the bathroom.
“You can’t come in, this is a women’s bathroom,” I yelled back, pointing out the obvious.
“You’re the only one in here,” he answered after a moment’s thought. “Right?”
When
no other female voices hollered at him to leave, Nate’s footsteps sounded across the tile floor. “Tell me you’re not actually in here using the toilet. That would officially make this the most awkward thing I’ve ever done on a date.”
I let loose a snotty, gurgling laugh. “No.”
“Thank goodness for that.” He was right outside the door. There was another pause, and then he sighed. “I think I’ve been an idiot.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” I said and pressed my forehead against the door. Somehow, it was easier to talk to him with the closed stall door between us.
“Can you tell me what’s wrong? And this time I’ll actually listen.”
“I don’t know if I have the right words. Plus, it might take a while.”
There were the unmistakable sounds of Nate taking a seat on the floor outside the stall. “Go for it. Things might get weird if another woman comes in, but there aren’t a lot of people at the mall on a Wednesday morning, so we might be okay.”
The silence stretched, and I lifted up a desperate plea to find some way to explain to Nate, and probably to myself, what was going on in my head.
“What did I do wrong?” he asked again. Nate’s voice was quiet and serious and hurt.
“You meant well,” I began slowly. I had to repair the damage I’d caused before explaining the damage he’d caused. “I want to believe that you just wanted to do something you thought I’d enjoy.”
“That’s true.”
“But when you mentioned your mom, I started feeling so inadequate.”
“Why?” Nate sounded genuinely surprised.
I rolled my eyes. This was just like a guy. “Your parents’ house is really nice, and your mom is perfectly put together. So’s your sister. I was afraid that you wanted me to be more like them and less like me.”
“Oh,” he said. “That would be an awful feeling.”
“Yeah.” I took a shaky breath. It was time to be the brave woman I always thought I was. “Nate, I freak out whenever you talk about me sticking around. I know you know that, but I don’t think I’ve told you why.
